The Washington critic., 1887-01-13

on, smile upon his handsome face,
iicli color on bis cheCk--youih, health,
strength, happiness, expressed In every
curve and outline of his statuesque
form. The next instant Prince has
seen the white artist and the white
umbrella. And ,hen-then Heaven
forgive me, not the amusing spectacle
Of handsome Arnold discontinue that
/ had hoped to see. lie kept his seat,
while Prince, rearing and plunging,
dashed wildly away with him toward q
precipitous path along the iff side and
vanished like mad thing with his
rider still upon his back, going straight
toward a certain awful preclpicc which
ovrihnug the rocky river shore below.
cannot 20 on. They picked him
up just alive, no more, at the foot of
that precipicc, and they carried him u
mere mass of broken bones and blecl-
ing flesh back TO the great hotel. Late
ut night crept softly UP stairs on my
way to bed. and passing Belle Burton's
door. heard those slow, heavy sobs that
tell of breaking heart issuing thence.
"1ie cannot live, the messenger had
said, and ! was, perhaps, a double muir.
derer. thought seriously of adding
10 my crime by committing suicide that
awful night.
But poor Arnold did live. lie had
wonderful constitution, unbroken, as
all the men who knew him knew, by
dissipation of any kind, and It is hard
TO kill such a man. He lived, and
strength returned to him at last but
no one would ever call him handsome
Arnold any more. lie had fallen on
his face on the horrible jagged rocks,
and during his Illness all his bonny
brown hair had turned gray. No one
would know him, they told me and so
powerfully had his beauty and his
sweetness affected even men of coarse
natures that they uttered these words
for the most part with tears in their
Eyes. As for myself, | would far
rather have seen a ghost.
Yet the sight was forced on me.
One day received note from him
asking me 10 come to the hotel, and 1t
was signed Henry Arnold.
! had no choice. could not refuse.
] went TO him.
AS saw him seated in great arm.
chair In the room TO which the waiter
showed meas he rose and advanced
toward me, and saw that he llmped
heavily wonder that he did not
die. J felt the blood leaving my face,
and saw the hot flush rise to his as he
| noticed the shock It gave me.
But he only said
"Sit down. 1t is kind of you to
come.'
| staggered 10 chair, and I saw
| nothing for while; yet through 1t all
! wondered what he thought of my
| strange conduct and hated myself for
| my weakness.
AT last he spoke:
II sec how I--how my appearance
affects you" he said, very sadly. at
is horrible thing that am trying to
| grow used TO. wish had broken my
neck. OF course, any man would un.
der the circumstances. But did not
ask you TO come that might say that
to you. wanty you to take Il note from
me to lady at your aunts house. If
you will be so kind. ] choose You be-
cause you are, as It were, one of the
family, and you will be very careful
and-and kind, l know. 1t is Miss
Belle Burton. / had hoped to marry
her one day. OF course, all that is
| over now. No one would-no woman
would-ovcrlook my hideous appear.
ancc."
His voice broke little, but he went
on bravely.
80 have written to her. do not
want her to see me, and shall go
abroad In n week or 50, and-you'll tell
her-you've seen me, you know. |
have loved her very much. | always
shall; and this is terribly hard"
He broke down entirely here. and
took letter from his bosom and put ii
into my hand.
"Giyc it TO her" he said, and turned
away.
went straight TO Belle Burton. |
found her in the garden, and told her
from whom came, and gave her the
missivc. She read 1t through gravely,
me with eyes that had such solemn,
holy look In them as one would hope TO
see in an angels.
Edward" she said, che says he Is
frightGully altered; is 1t so?'
Yes" i answered.
'Do you know what he has written
she said, softly.
II guess what 1t Is.
My poor boy!' said She. 'As If
anything could change me but change
in his heart. VIII you take me TO him,
Edward must 90 at once.
Command me, - said.
She caught up the wide straw hat on
the bench beside her and drew on her
gloves, and took my arm. never
loved her so well as did then. but, for
once, it was perfectly unsellish love.
knew what she was about to do, and
blessed her for it.
And so took her TO him; my hand
opened the door of his room for her;
my eyes saw-yes, and gladly-that,
however, that changed face might
affect others, ii only made her love for
him more tender | saw her rush into
his arms and hide her head on his
shoulder, and then went softly away
and hid myself where no one could see
me and cried like baby.
All! well, that is good while ago,
and they have been very happy. The
big fellow is almost as graceful as ever,
and as for his face--l do not think II
would matter much 10 me what my
face was II any one loved 1t as well as
Bella does his.
20 TO see them sometimes, and my
mad fancy Of kneeling down and con.
Tossing my share in the horrible affair
of the past is quite abandoned. Besides,
Bellies daughter Is 10 now, and If an
old fellow of 36-ah well, who knows
what may happen in the futurey Only
that would be another story quito, and
need not tell 1t here. If it is written,
IL is writlen.- n. y. Leader.
Nr. 5Iunnlug Denied n Echcarins.
Justice Cox, in delivering the opinion Of
the Court In General Term to-day, denied
the motion for rehelllug iu the cases OF
j. L. Manning against Secretaries Bayard
and Manning. An appeal was taken to the
L. $. Supreme Court